


New Resolution

by shame_on_me



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, Noodle Dragons, Post-Recall, Punk Hanzo Shimada, christmas cake, some boob fondling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-21 19:57:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11364537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shame_on_me/pseuds/shame_on_me
Summary: They are still struggling to come to terms with the past and the present, but the future promises to be full of hope. And cake.





	New Resolution

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MacBeka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MacBeka/gifts).



> Gift fic for macbeka for the shimadacest exchange event, I hope you enjoy! The prompt was "dragons playing."

Genji had brought a wooden arrow with a paper fortune tied to its shaft especially from a craftsman in Japan, traveling to his homeland after a brief stay with his master in Nepal before continuing halfway across the world to find his brother.  Just in time to spend the new year with Hanzo, to give him that traditional token of good luck and wish him well in person.  It was to be the first significant holiday they would have spent together since Genji had revealed himself to his older brother, so of course it should be memorable.  Getting the jump on Hanzo that time in Hanamura had been worth it, and Genji was eager to catch him off guard again, hopefully in a happier, less suicidal circumstance.

But it seemed this time Hanzo had surprises of his own.  The elder Shimada glanced up from where he was sitting on the hotel bed, looking unespecially perturbed by the sight of Genji slipping into the room from a large window.  That was a let-down, to be sure; Hanzo must have heard him sneak over somehow, but Genji landed on his feet gracefully and waved nevertheless.

“Happy new year, anija!” he said in greeting, handing over the arrow eagerly.

“Genji…”  Hanzo accepted the arrow offered in both hands, eyes flicking over the slip of paper tied to the shaft to read the series of brush strokes, the latter half of which Genji had convinced Zenyatta to add after the original set of characters as a sort of extra blessing. A wry half-smile lit up Hanzo’s face as he set the token reverently on the bedside table.  “I did not expect a visit, nor such a thoughtful gift, but I thank you for this good omen you brought with you.”

Whatever humorous line Genji had thought of to say next was immediately forgotten once he looked--really looked--at his older brother.  He let out a strangled sound instead.

More shocking than the undercut, the multiple piercings in his ears and nose, and the modern tight-fitting t-shirt and boxer briefs adorning Hanzo’s body, although any of those on their own would be enough to strike Genji speechless on a regular day…

“Is that cake?!” Genji cried, pointing a finger at the half-eaten slice on the plate in Hanzo’s lap.

“Was… it was cake,” Hanzo stated, a little defiant, pointedly not looking at the crumbs and blobs of frosting left within the cardboard box at his side--the only evidence of what had once been a full-sized cake.

Genji was about to go on, until he saw a similar-looking cardboard cake box in the trash can.  There was just the one fork and plate visible in the room, both currently in Hanzo’s lap, which could only mean… 

“You ate two whole Christmas cakes _by yourself_?” 

Hanzo began to redden sullenly, not quite meeting his little brother’s eyes as he nodded once.  “They were on sale after Christmas day, I would be a fool to not buy another,” he explained defensively.

“And all this time, I thought you were lactose intolerant,” Genji muttered as he attempted to push Hanzo to make room so he could sit on the bed too, eventually giving up and perching awkwardly halfway off the edge of the mattress. “You know these were meant to be shared!  You may claim to not have friends, anija, but you still have family.”

Glancing at Genji, Hanzo replied musingly, “But you went to Nepal for Christmas.  I did not want to intrude upon your time with Zenyatta.”

“For my dear older brother, I would have gladly spared a day without my master.”

“What, to stare at me for fifteen minutes while I eat your share of cake?”  Hanzo looked amused, on the verge of a throaty laugh.

“I can still taste food, a little.”  Genji thought about it, then added, “I probably can digest frosting!”

“I wouldn’t risk it,” Hanzo said--rather hypocritically, in Genji’s opinion.

“Really?  You’ve risked a lot recently, it seems,” Genji teased, poking at Hanzo’s side with an elbow.  “Cake, with western style frosting.  And this hair?  Those piercings?  Whatever has gotten into you, anija?”

Completely failing to keep his blush from spreading, Hanzo remained stubbornly silent as he ate another piece of cake, while Genji chuckled and reached up to touch the shaved back of his brother’s head.  “I can’t even guess… are you trying to impress someone?”

Hanzo shrugged, offering only, “A new look for the new year, that is all.”

“Hmm.”  With quick, birdlike movements, Genji examined his brother’s appearance from different angles, any expression obscured by the mask.  “I suppose.  The hair could be old-fashioned in a way, but the piercings, on the other hand…”  He leaned in closer, trying to reconcile the image of the older brother that he remembered, always seeming as if he stepped out of a centuries-old woodblock print, to this person sitting next to him, who had apparently gotten twice as many holes in his head as Genji had ever dared.   “You let someone pierce your face?” Genji blurted out, too fascinated by Hanzo’s drastic change to stop himself from asking.  “Who do you trust to wield a needle that close to your eyes?”

“I… have business contacts when I worked as an assassin, some of who specialize in… surgery, altering appearances.  They owed me.”  Hands fidgeted slightly, the fork tapping a few times against the ceramic plate.  “But enough about me, brother, what of you?  How was your Christmas?”

Sensing his brother’s discomfort, Genji obligingly set aside his curiosity for the moment and answered.  “Nothing much to report. The monastery is the same as ever, but Master and I had a snowball fight that eventually involved the whole mountain, and that was fun.  Managed to finally finish a letter to Angela, who has been on a medical expedition, if you remember.  Lena was making delivery rounds, so she dropped me off here on her way to catch up to Angela and the others.”  He swung one leg back and forth nervously, letting it bump against the bed frame, too keyed-up to restrain his anxiety.  “Soooo… that’s what I’ve been up to! Now it’s your turn again.”

“Very well, if it will keep you from needling me with questions all night.  Help me with this first.”  Hanzo held up the last whole strawberry from the cake to Genji, who laughed and detached his visor. 

“Of course, anija.”  Gingerly, he licked the frosting off the offered strawberry, tasting the cream and sugar and underlying fruitiness, and letting a thin scrape of juicy pulp and seed slide against his lower reconstructed jaw onto his tongue.  All the while watching Hanzo’s face, who was staring back at him intently. 

Genji swiped his tongue over whatever was left of his lips, hummed in satisfaction, and with an odd look, Hanzo took the strawberry back and bit daintily into the pre-nibbled fruit.  Though it was not before Genji caught a glimpse of the silver stud embedded into the middle of his brother’s tongue, causing him to let out a hiss of vented steam in scandalized horror.

“The fuck, Hanzo!  How much do you trust these contacts of yours?!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  Hanzo popped the rest of the strawberry into his mouth, chewing contentedly.

“The tongue piercing!  What else did you get done?!”  Lunging forward, Genji grabbed at the hem of Hanzo’s undershirt and yanked upward, to his brother’s loud protest.  Disappointingly, there was nothing else to discover, as Hanzo’s nipples remained dusky soft, unmarked by metal.

“That was all,” Hanzo grumbled, half-heartedly trying to pull his shirt down with one hand.  “I do not wish to set off metal detectors or impede my draw time with extraneous modifications.”

“Wait, hold on now, you would look so good with a nipple piercing, though,” Genji insisted quickly.  “Just a small bar right here.”  He slid a metallic fingertip over Hanzo’s left nipple purposefully, while Hanzo growled in warning and batted his arm away.

“Next time you go, take me with you, all right?” Genji demanded, fully taking advantage of his brother making a go for the cake remnant to continue caressing his pecs.  He cupped both breasts in his palms, pushing the plump flesh upward so they nearly overflowed his hands. 

“Damn, anija, you are getting big.”  Bigger than he ever recalled Hanzo of the past--must be all the cakes he was secretly eating while scolding McCree for not getting any vegetables in his diet.

“Stop that, Genji.”  But when Genji persisted, Hanzo set his cleaned plate down and grabbed his brother’s wrists to push them aside.  “I said _stop_ , you are pinching me.”

“I was massaging you--”

“Not with those robot finger joints, you aren’t.”  Finally Hanzo pulled his shirt back down and, thwarted, Genji huffed in indignation and turned his body away.

“Fine.  Was just trying to appreciate you, but be an asshole then.”  Genji stared down at his hands, flexed the clever yet undeniably mechanical joints in an automatic gesture from a more organic past.  Hanzo’s constant, unwitting rejection of the rebuilt body Genji now resided in… It still stung despite all of the progress he made under Zenyatta’s encouragement.  If he could just have had more time to soften the revelation of his survival to his brother--but there had been no chance then, the recall had been urgent, Overwatch needed to know which side Hanzo would choose.  Resentment, insidiously seeping back in from his dark Blackwatch years, coiled in his chest cavity, picked at his artificially enhanced heart. This had been a mistake, Genji thought bitterly. Hanzo would never accept him as he existed now, he was only tormenting them both trying to rebuild their relationship; he should leave, call Lena, and head back to Watchpoint--

“Genji…”  Hanzo sighed, the name like a breath of apology from his lips.

And Genji froze, conflicted, hurt, wanting more than anything to be comforted by the very same person who had caused him so much pain.  He shook his head, bit at his lower lip, body tensed to spring to his feet and flee while his heart yearned to stay, to work things out even if it would be difficult.

“Genji, I did not mean to distress you.  Let us not start over in this way…  Tell me…”  Hanzo’s voice trailed off, uncertain as he rarely sounded except when it came to matters of the heart.

Just as Hanzo reached for him, a blur of warmth showing up on the infrared monitoring system, Genji whipped around, green light rising from his shoulders and coalescing swiftly into his spirit dragon.  Glaring at Hanzo, his dragon coiled restlessly in the air, no doubt recalling exactly who had struck down its master, but it made no move to attack.

“Anija, I want us to be brothers again.  Whatever happened, whatever will happen, I just want us to be close like before,” Genji said, anguish bleeding into his digitized voice.  “Am I wrong to believe you want the same?”

Above the two of them, the dragon echoed his pain, his hope, in soft ethereal tones.   

“There is nothing more I would desire than to have my brother back… I dreamed of it almost every night these past several years,” Hanzo confessed quietly, in between faltering, uncertain pauses.  “But… what I have done to you, how you have changed, it haunts me.  I can’t… live with this knowledge.  How can you forgive me, Genji?  I don’t understand, what made you decide I deserved it?”

“It doesn’t matter if you deserve it or not, I have forgiven you anyway.  A thousand times already, at least.”  Genji took his brother’s hand, laced his fingers in between Hanzo’s own, squeezed tightly in his longing.  “And I will do so a billion more times, gladly, until you get it.”

“That seems excessive,” Hanzo stated evenly, just like he always did when Genji spouted off his hyperboles in the past.  “A million times should be sufficient. I am confident I will get it by then.”

“Well, you _are_ a tactical genius,” Genji agreed, cracking a smile at Hanzo’s attempts at humor.  “I’d expect only the best from a Shimada with not one but two university degrees.  But really…” He continued, more seriously, “I think it will work out, somehow.  I’m not being silly, I just have this feeling…”

Slowly, Hanzo nodded, the frown that constantly marred his face easing somewhat in cautious relief.  “I see.  It would be… foolish of me to try to stop you at any rate, you have always been stubborn.”  A tremulous smile flashed across his face, of old heartbreak, of new hope.  “Thank you for deciding to come back to me, Genji.”  

Taking that as an invitation, Genji leaned forward, seeking to close the gap between them if just for a moment, and promptly got a faceful of neon green light as his spirit dragon wedged itself protectively in front of him. 

“Man, he does not like you, anija.”

Hanzo nodded glumly, bore the threatening hissing from Genji’s dragon.  “I do not blame him.  I tried to kill you, his connection to this existence, and he nearly lost his own being trying to keep you alive afterwards.”  He untangled his fingers from Genji’s, held his hands palms up towards the dragon, who snubbed this display and remained where it was.  At a loss, Hanzo glanced at his brother questioningly, and Genji snickered at his predicament.  He moved to hug his brother regardless of his dragon’s objection and subjected them both to its flailing screech.  Then, probably out of a show of dominance, Hanzo returned the embrace, squeezing Genji’s metal and synthetic body tight within thickly muscled arms, the dragon now squished between their torsos.  Suddenly, the dragon quieted its noise, and in the ensuing silence, Hanzo opened his eyes to stare at it.

“Genji… what is your spirit dragon doing?”

“Um…”  Unable to keep from smirking in growing realization, Genji explained, “He’s, well...he’s kneading your boobs.  You know, like cats do? With something soft?”

They both watched the dragon happily pluck and push at Hanzo’s chest for a few seconds. Hanzo closed his eyes, inhaled exasperatedly, but eventually decided this was not worth yelling at his brother. 

“If we had any doubts if your spirit dragon is truly yours, this settles it.”  Letting go of Genji, Hanzo tried to pull the creature from his chest, but it dug its claws into his shirt and would not let go.

“Hey now, he never does that to me,” Genji observed cheerfully, not bothering to help.  “Even though my tits were pretty decent-sized in the past.”

“He is drooling! This is my only undershirt,” Hanzo snapped, struggling to unhook the dragon’s talons from his shirt.

“What does spirit dragon drool even feel like?”

“The more important thing is getting him off my shirt.”

Their genius solution involved Hanzo summoning his own spirit dragons, both of which unfortunately did not materialize as the size of a fox, like Genji’s, but closer to the size of what McCree had referred to--much to Hanzo’s utter indignation--as “heifers.”  So now Hanzo was pinned on the bed under three spirit dragons and his gleeful brother, at least two of which were still touching his chest.

“On the bright side,” Genji said in a conversational tone, “I think my spirit dragon has decided to like you again.”

“I am thrilled.”  Hanzo’s voice sounded muffled due to one of his own dragons currently sprawling over his face and shoulders and doing absolutely nothing to move Genji’s dragon, or its brother for that matter, away.  “Can you help, please?”

“Okay, okay.” 

Hanzo was then subjected to Genji working his shirt off and tossing it on the ground, where all three dragons pounced on it and began tussling over which one got to nest in it first, Genji’s smaller dragon giving the other two all it got.  Hanzo’s eyes narrowed at his little brother’s triumphant expression.

“You planned this, didn’t you?”

“I learned it from you, brother,” Genji responded, trying to keep from chuckling.

Before Hanzo could retort, he suddenly shivered in a whole body shudder from head to toe and rubbed at his arms.  In an instant, Genji felt a little guilty for stripping him in the middle of a winter night, so he reached over and embraced his brother again, while increasing his internal body temperature threshold by a degree.

“I will keep you warm, don’t worry.”  _I will protect you_ , was the unspoken promise.

For a moment, Hanzo seemed like he would protest; but then he reached around and pulled Genji closer, tucking his head into the crook of his shoulder, where he could get the best possible view of those perfect pecs.

The two of them settled under the covers, as they used to years ago, when their parents would tuck them into bed after a bedtime story.  After a few minutes of silence except for the sound of the three dragons inevitably shredding Hanzo’s only undershirt to pieces, Hanzo cleared his throat.

“As I was going to tell you before I got interrupted, I had an appointment at this location, and could not join you for Christmas in time.”

Genji glanced up at him, questioning.  “What?  To get your piercings done?”

“I was taking a final exam and doing an exit interview,” Hanzo replied, not quite meeting his eyes.

“A final?  For a class?  What on earth… What do you still need to go to school for, Hanzo?   You’re thirty-eight years old and have two degrees!”

“…Hand me my phone.”

Once Genji retrieved the phone, Hanzo pulled up a video, and on the screen the two of them watched a little girl outfitted in engineer’s gear over African finery appear in the frame. With a smile she congratulated a Mr. Hanzo Shimada for his exemplary work and outstanding final marks, and expressed hope that he would continue her curriculum for basic Omnic maintenance (concentration in combat specialization).

Genji watched the video clip fade to black, glancing up at Hanzo incredulously.  “ You…you are studying to be an Omnic engineer?  But…why?” And as soon as he asked that, Genji thought he might know the answer.

“For you, Genji,” Hanzo answered simply.  He took a deep breath, as if steeling himself.  “Because I cannot live with what I have done, but if I can do anything to make sure that _you_ can live, I will do it. There is nothing I would not try, and… engineering is not much more than real world application of mathematics and physics, in the end.”

Genji had to laugh, surprised to discover that his stuffy and traditional older brother had attempted something so modern and technologically advanced as robotics.  Beside him, Hanzo frowned, and the dragons paused their antics and gathered at the bedside to watch them almost fondly.

“That was not supposed to be funny.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Genji managed to say, in between giggles.  “I was just…thinking...you must have gotten your hair cut and all that to blend in with the other students.  I bet someone thought you were an art major!”

“A few people did assume so,” Hanzo confessed sourly, causing Genji to howl with laughter.

But the moment that he calmed down, Genji sobered to say, “Anija, this is seriously the best gift you could give me.  I could have never guessed it of you, but I really appreciate it.  Thank you, Hanzo.”

“I still cannot do much on my own,” Hanzo insisted.  “You will need Angela and Zenyatta and Torbjorn, should you get injured or damaged.  But I would be able to understand instructions and help out, and it would be better than nothing.”

“It would be amazing, Hanzo, and you know it,” Genji told him proudly.  He hesitated, then asked, “So… does that mean...?”

“Yes.”  Now Hanzo smiled, a genuine one that lit his whole being up like the sun.  “I will be with you, Genji.  For as long as I can.”  Still smiling, he leaned over and gave Genji a quick kiss on the forehead, where the metal protector covered his skin.

Somewhere on the streets below, horns honked and people cheered, and all across the night sky, lights that were hopefully just fireworks sparkled and faded. 

“Happy new year’s, brother.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> beta'ed by the masterful bonebo, any resulting errors are all me and my last minute editing lmao  
> Just wanted to slide in a reference to edgelord punk Hanzo and his Christmas cake. For context, this takes place in my mind after the events in "Hot Milky," however it is a stand-alone fic and does not refer to milk except once, amazingly.


End file.
